Strangers in Love
by Katharine the Lolita
Summary: Tifa and Vincent torment each other at a bar in Wutai and end up falling for each other.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: For all legal purposes, I do not own any of these charactors or places.

Strangers in Love

by Katharine Wills

Wutai… the perfect place to run away to, the perfect place to throw yourself into the sheets and pillows of a cheap motel room and cry, and the perfect place to block out unwanted memories in a seemingly unlimited supply of alcohol.

At least that's what Tifa had first thought of when it was all over. Everyone in the whole world had been saved, rescued, and relieved… everyone but her. It was unfair how every one of her companions had gone in their separate ways with smiles on their faces. Being a team had given Tifa meaning and purpose to her life, it had been everything she lived for. The final battles with Sephiroth and the destruction of Meteor had been exhilarating moments of her life, the best and yet the worst. It was liberating to become heroes, yet she knew that after all the fighting and after all the battles that there would be nothing extraordinary about their lives.

Some of her companions wanted normalcy, especially Cloud, and some just wanted to get away, like Tifa. So here she was, sitting in an ordinary bar in an ordinary tourist town drinking ordinary cocktails and martinis. She had locked herself away in her motel room for two entire days, sleeping and contemplating her lonely future. When that brought her no peace of mind, she had dragged herself downstairs to sulk at the bar. Pain was evident in her once bright eyes, and the bartender smirked to himself as she repeatedly set coins down at the counter.

First she had asked for wine, hoping that its sweet taste would bring a smile to her lips… but it hadn't. Then she had ordered several cocktails, hoping to distract her mind… but they didn't. Finally Tifa slapped down a few more coins that were hastily snatched up by the bartender as he handed her a very strong martini. If Tifa was going to go down, it would be in a pool of alcohol and tears. Being separated from her friends had shattered her, it was her downfall.

'What has happened to me?' she thought to herself, 'I used to be strong… I used to be happy all the time.' She took a long sip of the vicious liquid, wondering how much alcohol she could actually tolerate. 'I'm so going to regret this in the morning,' she thought with sad humor.

When the martini was gone, she set the empty glass on the counter and listened to the chiming music play from old speakers behind the bamboo plants. Her head was hung low and she was propped up against the counter with her elbows, hands covering her face. She probably looked pathetic among all the other bar patrons. She could hear a young woman giggling, a few people playing poker, and two other people talking in low, inaudible voices.

Tifa sighed heavily before pulling herself up and slipping from the barstool to stand up. She brushed her raven hair back out of her face and was about to turn when something caught her eye as the door to the bar swung agape. Another lost soul here to join the lazy atmosphere of the bar? Or just another zippy tourist?

Someone tall strode in, glancing both directions before making his way to the counter and sliding on to a barstool. All the while Tifa stood there, mouth half open as a very familiar man in black and red brushed past her, not even noticing her. What the hell was Vincent doing here of all places? She had to hide! Tifa stumbled towards the stairs, finally feeling all that alcohol catch up to her. She hurried up and out of sight, hoping that he hadn't seen her. Stopping to lean against the wall in the corridor upstairs, Tifa breathed out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.

Vincent… the tortured yet attractive man that Tifa barely knew was just downstairs, sitting at the very bar that Tifa had drowned her sorrows at. She couldn't believe her luck. She had run away, only to brush shoulders with a stranger that somehow made her heart race and that made her nervous enough to even flee from his presence. Tifa's wonder soon turned to anger.

Shouldn't Vincent of all people understand about wanting to be alone? Why was he here anyways? Wutai was Tifa's hiding place for now, not his! Her eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was his pale face, and she screamed, nearly collapsing against the wall. It felt like the floor was moving under her feet, but that was probably due to all those drinks she'd sipped.

"Oh my god, you scared me!" she cried out, staggering back against the wall again. She hadn't even heard him come up the stairs, and how long had he been standing there? His face was expressionless, at least the part that she could see through his hair and cowl.

"I thought I'd say good evening before you left," he spoke, his smooth voice so calm and alluring. Had he purposely tried to frighten Tifa so badly? She felt her heart still pounding from being startled, and then she felt her face become hot. He must have seen her make a dash for the stairs.

Embarrassed now, Tifa could only manage to say, "All right, bye then." Then she made a move to go to her door but he trailed after her. She could feel his gaze locked on to her, it was so strange.

"Somehow I had imagined you'd be glued to Cloud, now that what's-her-face is gone," he said wonderingly, holding out a hand towards her as he spoke. Tifa turned to face him, quite annoyed with his comment.

"I have no intention of gluing myself to that insensitive jerk, just to let you know," she replied, the alcohol intensifying her angst, "I came here to forget all that junk. I intended to be left alone, but now look. You've showed up and I have no idea why."

"Well I have no idea why, either," he spoke hesitantly, suddenly humble with her. Tifa blinked, caught off guard with his gentleness and not sure why he was even talking with her. He had never really talked with her before. He had only answered yes or no questions and would isolate himself whenever possible.

Tifa had never thought she'd feel such loneliness as he did, yet right now standing before him she could almost touch the feeling of sheer, utter despair on him.

"Are you ok?" she asked suddenly, realizing that he might have come here for her help.

"I'm fine. I just thought I'd be polite to an acquaintance of mine and say hello. And so I have. Goodnight, Tifa," he replied, nodding to her and backing away slowly. Tifa's heart was still pounding, yet not from fear. He seemed so sad… so alone… so forlorn. And he was fine with it! Tifa's heart cried out for him, but he was turned from her. He would never see her expression of dire concern. She breathed in and then exhaled slowly, feeling a horrible headache coming her way.

Without glancing back at Vincent as he left, Tifa turned and unlocked her door and stepped inside, shutting the door and relocking it. The lumpy bed was calling to her and she answered its call by flopping into the off white sheets and crashing… hard.

Her eyes flew open and darted around the room, uncertain as to where she lay. Then it all came back to her, in one giant flood of memory. The battle was over, she was alone in Wutai, and she had a very bad hangover. Tifa rolled over on her side and squinted at the digital clock beside the bed.

'Damn, I only slept for 10 minutes!' she thought, disappointment setting in. She rubbed her sleep deprived eyes and stretched out her legs, feeling sore muscles complain. The room was spinning, or so it seemed. She glanced sideways at the floor, seeing her gloves laying there. Not long ago her fighting gloves had been prized possessions. Now they were little more than reminders of how Tifa used to fight beside her companions. She fought back her tears and tore her gaze away from them.

'I'm just going to waste away now…' she told herself. Pessimism was so unlike her.

Then she remembered the encounter that must've been only 15 minutes ago. How could she forget so quickly? Vincent had appeared here, startling her and yet attempting to converse with her. Was he still downstairs? Had he left yet?

Tifa jumped up and went to the door on shaky legs. How could she be so stupid? Vincent was the only connection she had right now to her past that she missed so badly. Sure, they might not have anything in common, but he had been there with everyone in the end and had seen what Tifa had seen! She stumbled down the stairs that seemed to leap and bound away from her feet. Despicable alcohol!

And then she had emerged into the bar again, glancing around in the dim light. The bartenders had just switched shifts and only a few people lingered at the counter, happily guzzling martinis. Vincent was no where in sight… he was gone!

No… he wasn't. He was lounging casually in a chair at a table in the shadowy corner, all alone. Tifa breathed out a sigh and almost smiled. He was watching her now as she strode over to his table. It made her shiver to see those eyes following her every step.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked gently as she drew near, her eyes meeting his. His eyes weren't as empty as she had expected.

"No," he replied blankly, staring off into space as Tifa slid into a chair across from him. Her heart was racing again. He was so intimidating when he was silent… if only he would speak again.

"I… I'm sorry for being so sensitive before," she started, hoping to coax him into conversation.

"No apology needed. I must have hit a sensitive spot," he replied quickly, his gaze never falling upon her. He just sat there, tipped back in his chair slightly.

"Well… um, why did you come here?" she ventured, feeling quite awkward now. This was getting her no where, she still felt hurt and alone despite Vincent's company.

"I don't know. I hoped it would be more pleasant than going back to the mansion," he spoke, tilting his head slightly. His black hair was strewn about his shoulders so perfectly.

Tifa nodded in agreement as she studied him, not quite sure why he made her nervous. He seemed like a complete stranger, yet at the same time he was like a long lost friend.

"I figured coming all the way here was far enough to break my contacts with anyone," Tifa admitted finally, looking down into her lap.

"And why would you want that? You're the energetic bad girl with all the friends, aren't you?" he mused, his eyes warming up just a bit. Tifa bit her lip at his comment, pain filling up inside as she recalled all those times she had pulled everyone through the hard times, especially in Mideel.

"Oh, don't you see why? Everything's over now, there's nothing left but to live normal lives! No adventure, no depending on someone to save your life, and no being a team anymore!" she cried out softly, spilling out all her emotions unexpectedly.

Vincent leaned forward, no longer tipped back leisurely. He could sense the hurting in her now. He must have overlooked it all before in the hall. Yet he was at a loss for words.

"I don't know what I can say to you. So I'll just say that I'm sorry you feel so lost," he spoke in a reassuring tone. Tifa relaxed a little, setting her hands on the table and leaning forward.

"But, Vincent… I'm glad you're here," she replied, her words drifting away as she stared at the table.

"What? What do you mean by that?" he asked with hesitation, his own wondering thoughts beginning to stir.

'She's so depressed…' he thought silently, watching as Tifa glanced up warily.

"I mean that I feel like I can tell you these things, honestly," she explained, becoming serious despite the alcohol in her bloodstream.

"So here we are, and you've told me things. You are also drunk Tifa, remember that," he replied sternly, his cowl still hiding most of his face. He was becoming nervous with all of Tifa's dreamy comments.

Tifa gave a short, annoyed laugh and turned in her chair.

"That doesn't mean that I'm lying to you. For a moment I thought you'd care… you of all people! Oh, Vincent… you are cold!" she said, her tone slowly turning from gentle to somewhat vicious.

And with that said, she got up and walked away, zigzagging between the scattered tables and over to the stairs. She ascended them on unsteady feet and then disappeared again into the hallway.

Vincent sat there, unmoving and silent. He watched her go with regret setting in, something he seldom felt for others. Somehow he hoped that she didn't mean those words entirely, that maybe she was just touchy from all those drinks she must've consumed. A part of him knew how she must feel, alone and useless. Another part of him told him that she knew nothing of anguish and misery.

But Tifa was experiencing that kind of loneliness for the first time, while Vincent had dealt with it for years. If only she wouldn't be so teary eyed and sensitive… it was almost a weakness Vincent now felt. He sighed and pondered of what to do now that he'd upset her. He could chase after her and risk being yelled at or punched. Tifa was a fighter after all. Or he could remain where he was, uncaring and isolated, protecting only himself. If routine got the best of him, he'd be smart to leave town tonight.

'No, I shouldn't run anymore,' he told himself as he came to a decision.

Before he knew it, he stood in the darkened hallway, glancing at each door, trying to guess which one Tifa resided behind. Then he remembered… it was at the end, the last door. He took a deep breath and brushed back his silky black hair, praying that he hadn't lost Tifa completely. He summoned up the courage to knock lightly, preparing himself for something he rarely showed: friendliness.

The door clicked and opened just an inch and Vincent could see Tifa's face peer out at him timidly. She even seemed taken aback as she recognized him. A half smile played across her pretty lips and Vincent's heart started pounding. Here they were, just standing and staring at each other silently.

Vincent coughed and then said, "I'm sorry for acting so cold, I've never really acted otherwise. You'll never understand who I used to be, but this is who I am now…" He trailed off lightly, putting a hand on the door and easing it open just a little more, so he could see the expression on Tifa's face.

She was searching his eyes desperately, searching for any warmth, any sympathy, any understanding. There was only silence between them, heavy silence.

"Please, Tifa. Don't ignore me now. You've said it yourself: you felt that you could come to me and tell me things. No one has ever told me that before, no one has confided in me like you have. Please don't withdraw from a person you've just awakened," he begged, realizing how much her trust actually meant to him. So he wasn't the cold, inhuman thing he thought he was…

Tifa made a startled cry of something like pain or surprise… perhaps both. It nearly twisted Vincent's heart in half hearing her cry like that at his words. He was only making matters worse it seemed, and he began to turn away.

She swung the door open all the way, stepping out after him.

"Please don't go. Please don't stop talking," she pleaded softly, her sorrow mixed with his.

His dark eyes locked on with her placid eyes and all of a sudden they both knew each other. Their commonality was sadness. Sadness of what has been lost, and sadness of what could happen next. Her lower lips trembled, as if she were about to cry.

"Kiss me," she whispered, reaching out to touch his fingertips lightly.

Her grazing touch was all he needed to feel as he was pushed over the edge, and he drew her in close, closer than they'd ever come before and enfolded her in his arms. She was already moving towards him as their lips met with unknown intensity. The kiss was awkward as the two uncertain souls touched for the first time. Vincent held her carefully as Tifa pressed in to his body.

When they parted Tifa felt him move her back inside the room and out of the hallway. Once the door was shut their eyes met again, only this times Vincent's weren't so empty, but pleading instead. Tifa wanted to cry, to just throw herself into his arms again and tell him everything.

She felt his arm trace around her waist and pull her in gently as she willingly let his mouth connect with hers once more. He kissed her lightly at first, again and again. It was as sweet and as torturous as nothing she'd ever experienced before. How could she have ever been angry at him? He was so gentle and so beautiful.

Their kisses were never ending, yet they weren't demanding or rough. All the pain that Tifa had felt, all the uncertainty of her future, and all the bleak thoughts that had plagued her mind were washed away with his passionate touch.

And at the same, Vincent had never felt so free. How could this girl that had intrigued him for so long make him feel so free, so light? It was as if he'd known her all along. Why hadn't he come into her life earlier?

His fingers stroked through her brown satin hair, his claw resting carefully on the small of her back. She felt so fragile in his embrace. He felt the urge to keep her, to protect her.

Soon they were just standing there in the darkness. Now wasn't the time for words. Silence was just as savory as the kisses. There was nothing to worry about anymore.

"This is some kind of crazy dream I'm having, isn't it? I really did crash before, and none of this is really happening, is it?" she asked softly, her voice wavering.

Vincent sighed and hugged her tighter before reassuring her, "No, I'm afraid this actually happened."

She shivered and snuggled her face into his chest.

"You're so warm," she whispered absentmindedly.

"And yet just moments ago you had called me cold," he replied softly, a thin smile coming to his lips.

A smile? On Vincent?

"I was so wrong, so very, very wrong," she murmured dreamily, "You've listened to me, you've understood what I'm going through, and… and you've comforted me."

"As you have for me," he added in that same dreamy tone she had.

Tifa glanced up into his eyes, a look of wonderment in her own eyes.

"I have? How?" she asked.

"You made me realize something. It's not dangerous to follow your instincts, and it's not dangerous to trust. Tifa, I've been foolish to always act cold and isolated like I did through that whole journey. I've been foolish to never let go of what has happened in my past. To live in a haunted life is not a life at all, it is a selfish obsession. You… you made me feel so free when you came to me tonight. To have someone need me is something so strange yet wonderful to me. Whether this meeting was coincidence or fate, I do not know…" he explained, feeling a portion of his sadness slip away.

"I… don't know either," she replied, wondering how long their moments together would last. They still didn't know each other personally, yet emotionally they felt almost the same thing. They didn't need to speak of it, they only to see it in each others eyes and know. Yet here they stood, intertwined in each other in only an embrace real lovers would share.

Strangers in love…

It was probably close to midnight by now as Tifa lay alone in her bed, clinging to the sheets and holding back tears. Vincent had gone, had said she needed sleep. They had shared many passionate kisses before he'd slipped away. Tifa made him promise that he wouldn't run away, leave, or anything like that. He had gladly promised her he wouldn't leave behind the most amazing woman in the world. But still, she fretted.

'We can never be together,' she told herself, remembering the vague stories he had told everyone back when he had first joined their cause.

Awful things had happened to him, horrid images had been burned into his memory. And that other woman, Lucretia, who was she?

Tifa rolled over and tried to forget all of that for now. Live life at the moment. That's what she would do. Maybe Vincent didn't love her, but he still treated her as if he did.

Comforted by his promise, Tifa felt sweet slumber consume her, sending her into a dreamless sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Tifa stood in the shower, letting the stream of hot water spray down her back. It soothed her aches and pains from sleeping on a lumpy mattress. It also gave her time to think. Now that the mistake of drinking all that alcohol last night was gone, Tifa went through her options.

She could prance downstairs and see if Vincent really did stay in town. She could stay here in her room all day, savoring the joy of hot showers and clean clothes. Or she could leave town before things got too complicated with Vincent, that is, if he was still here. What she wanted the most was to do her first option: run to Vincent's side.

Her heart pounded nervously as she imagined him leaving town in the middle of the night, right after they had comforted each other. If that was indeed the case, all the pain from before and even more pain would flood back to her. Coping with all the pain would be another story…

She turned off the water as the handle squeaked. Being anxious to see whether or not Vincent was still around had gotten the better of her and she cut the shower short. She wrapped a towel around her dripping body and stepped out of the bathroom and into her room. Dirty clothes lay strewn about, no where near her back pack.

A smirk dotted her face as she slipped on some panties and her skirt. She found a fresh shirt in the pile of clothes and pulled it over her head, feeling it cling to her curves instantly. Finally she had her shoes on, drying to dry her hair at the same time as she made her way across the cramped room.

'I hope he's still here… oh I hope so much that he stayed,' she thought, worrying all the while. She had so many questions she wanted to ask him, so many that she needed answered.

With her long hair still half wet, she strode out into the hall and locked up her room.

'The way he touched me last night… it must have meant something to him,' she told herself, nearly daydreaming again. She straightened up and made her way down to the bar below. Reluctantly, Tifa paid for her room and then glanced about the bar. Vincent wasn't in here, not even in the shadowy corners.

She frowned and went to the door, stepping out into the early evening sunshine. She must have slept in really late! No matter, she needed it badly.

Tifa looked around at the stone walkways, trimmed bushes, and wooden bridges leading out around the quaint town. If he was in fact here, it shouldn't be hard to find him. She set forth and crossed a bridge, glancing down to see the stream below trickling pleasantly.

Wutai was a beautiful town and that's why it attracted tourists. If it weren't for them, this place would be paradise. Tifa confirmed that thought as she pushed her way past a big group of tourists that were crowding around a gift shop. Did they have to be so loud? She must be still feeling the last threads of a hangover.

Once past the tourists, Tifa crossed another bridge wandering towards the outskirts of town. And then her heart stopped, turned over, and began pounding again. There he was! She jogged across the grass and over to him.

Vincent leaned casually beside a tree in the shade, his eyes closed in deep thought. He wasn't wearing his cape and cowl as usual, just his shirt, pants, and boots. Tifa could finally see all of his face at once, and he was magnificent. Joy flooded her soul at the sight of him.

As she drew near, he heard her footsteps in the grass and glanced up to give her a faint smile.

"Tifa," he whispered, almost cried.

"You waited for me," she said softly, standing just a few feet before him in the cool shade.

"Like I promised," he replied smoothly, tilting his head up and closing his eyes lazily.

A short moment of silence passed between them.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked quietly, awaiting her answer.

"Yes, I do. I slept through an awful hangover, but yes. I feel better," Tifa said cheerfully.

"Good, then perhaps you can make better judgments," he said quickly, nearly cutting her off.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Perhaps you didn't mean to take last night as far as it went," he informed, his head turning away from her.

Tifa was stunned as she stood there, feeling his words cut into her.

"I… I didn't mind at all. I liked it. Wait… you regret it now, don't you?" she spoke, her voice choked with grief.

He didn't even look at her; he just kept staring sidelong at the ground. She studied his face, his beautiful face, as her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't you!" she yelled now, choking back sobs.

Still, he didn't reply. His expression was unchanging and unreadable. Tifa let the tears flow down her cheeks in long silvery streams. Did he really think Tifa had bad judgment last night? And did he really regret getting close to her?

She was about to turn and leave when he finally spoke.

"No," he whispered softly, still not meeting her pleading eyes.

Tifa paused, waiting for the rest of his words with renewed hope.

"You just seemed so helpless and lost last night, the way you told me everything about how you felt, the way you would get embarrassed, and the way you cried. I felt… I felt like I had to help… No, I wanted to help," he continued, his tone gentle and forgiving.

"And what of the way we held each other? The way we kissed?" she urged, needing to hear her questions answered.

His dark eyes glanced up and into hers, burning through her.

"It was the way that things happened, whether they were meant to happen that way or not," he said, soothing her nerves.

Tifa drew closer to him, letting him wrap her into his embrace as he leaned against the tree. The sun had slowly begun its descent towards the mountains and they shadows became darker and more definite.

She took in Vincent's sweet scent and hugged against him tightly, feeling his strong arms keeping her in. This was ecstasy!

"Tifa…?" he whispered.

"Mmm?" she nuzzled into his chest.

"You don't know me… and I don't know you," he began shyly, "But… it feels as if we share the same longing, the same pain. And because of that, I am drawn to you."

She took in all his words and kept silent, hoping to hang on to this moment for as long as possible. Her hand trailed up his chest and across her neck, curling a finger through his long ink black hair.

"I don't know what to say," she sighed, as it seemed it was her turn to be at a loss for words.

"Then let's walk," he suggested, pulling her with him away from the tree.

They wandered through Wutai, watching as the tourists disappeared into the cramped motel. They didn't return to the bar, but instead began walking along a dirt path that lead through the trees towards the river. The sun was setting quickly, sending the world around them into a darkening shadow of early nighttime. Tifa didn't mind; it only added to Vincent's attractive darkness.

When they paused among the trees, Tifa drew close again, pressing against his body affectionately.

"It's dark out… and a bit chilly," she commented, nuzzling him.

He pet her hair and replied, "I like the darkness… the peacefulness."

She shivered and reached to kiss his lips lightly. He glanced down on her with a half smile, fully revealed since he had left his cape behind. A breeze blew through, ruffling their hair and bringing more chills to Tifa.

"All right, we'll go back in. But no drinks for you tonight," he said, leading her back towards the bar and motel. Tifa gave a soft laugh and nodded in agreement, remembering all those awful cramps and headaches it had given her the other night.

Within minutes they strode into the bar together and had sat at their table in the dark corner. And in another moment, Tifa was watching Vincent knock back a few shots as she sipped on a glass of water.

Her staring soon caught his attention again and he said, "I never said that I wouldn't have any drinks."

Tifa smiled a bit, wondering if he really did enjoy those strong, vile tasting shots. He had ingested four already!

"How do you feel?" she asked curiously, leaning in over the table.

Vincent leaned in also, brushing lips with hers unexpectedly. Tifa blinked and felt her face become hot.

"If you're referring to the alcohol, I feel nothing," he spoke in a quiet, low voice.

"Ha, literally?" she replied, grinning.

"No, not quite literally. I'm better at drinking than you are though," he shot back almost playfully.

"Oh really? We could test that, if only you didn't make me promise not to drink tonight," she retorted, keeping up with his game.

"Then I guess I'm the better drinker if you can't drink at all," he announced, tilting back in his chair and giving her yet another half smile.

"Not fair," she replied, taking a long sip of her water and brushing back her flowing hair.

He set a small pile of coins on the table and got suddenly, stretching while looking down at Tifa.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested, touching her shoulder lightly.

She agreed and went up with him, hand-in-hand.

Perhaps Vincent was staying at this motel also, because Tifa was hoping they wouldn't go to her room… it was a mess! But to her dismay, Vincent wanted to retreat into the room that was hers.

Once inside, Vincent went directly to the bed and fell into it, curling up in her tangled sheets.

"Had too many drinks, hmm?" she remarked playfully, putting her hands on her hips as she stood there. She didn't bother to turn on the lights as she went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Mm hmm…" he replied, muffled through the blankets. Tifa wanted to laugh all of a sudden, but she managed to stifle a giggle. She sat there, hugging her knees to her chest like a little girl, daydreaming.

It warmed her heart to know that Vincent had meant everything from last night. It was good to have someone here with her, even if they seemed like strangers. Yet the stranger feeling was slowly fading as Tifa gazed at him lying there.

"Vincent?" she started softly, crawling nearer to him.

He rolled on to his back and let her cuddle up next to him. No shame anymore. He pulled her closer and drew her into a long, passionate kiss. This time his oversized cloak didn't get in the way of their faces as they pressed together tighter.

They broke away a moment for Vincent to reply, "Yes?"

Tifa breathed out, feeling the surprise of his fierce kiss flow through her, before saying, "Who was Lucretia?"

The name hit him like a bullet.

"No one, Tifa," he replied gently, pulling her back in for another kiss, this time running his hands up her back.

She pulled away reluctantly, knowing he was evading the question.

"No really… was she someone you loved?" Tifa asked, tracing a finger down his neck.

"Once," he said, his voice going lifeless. He sighed and rolled on to his side, bringing Tifa in closer to whisper in her ear, "But she is dead to me, as I am to her."

His voice was sweet ecstasy in her ear, his breath upon her neck so tantalizing. This time she pulled him in for a kiss, a fierce, passion driven kiss. Vincent complied, returning her kiss with just as much fervor.

Tifa could feel his non-metal hand sneak up her shirt, not quite wanting to stop him and not quite wanting to let him progress. In the end, she couldn't fight it, couldn't possibly make him stop touching her. His hand brushed over her curves, discovering she wore no bra today.

Their kiss broke as Tifa gasped.

"D-did I hurt you?" he stammered, looking into her eyes intently.

"No…" she sighed, closing her eyes. It seemed those shots were making Vincent extra friendly… and Tifa was enjoying it.


	3. Chapter 3

Last chapter! Hope you enjoyed this!

Tifa felt Vincent's wandering hand withdraw from her shirt and she almost groaned. His touch was like fire upon her flesh. He trembled for a moment, trying to control himself, and then sat up slowly to gaze into her face longingly.

"Forgive me," he spoke quietly, tracing her chin with his hand gently.

"Don't apologize, Vincent," she replied, seeing his dark eyes grace over her body again.

Vincent laid back down beside her, taking her hand in his in such a loving gesture that her heart began to race. Tifa smiled to herself, letting her racing heart slow down just a bit. They just laid there in the dark, content to have each other as silent company. Then Vincent broke the silence.

"Tifa…?" he whispered, closing his eyes.

"Yeah?" she replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He pulled her in closer, letting her snuggle into his side. She rested her head on his chest, and clung to him lazily. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. Tifa was beginning to wonder if he wasn't going to continue, but then he did.

"These past two days have been hard on us, haven't they?" he continued softly, petting her hair delicately.

Tifa nodded in agreement, feeling her sleepy eyes close. All she wanted to do was lie here against Vincent, savoring his warmth.

"But I don't like it here," she added, her mind drifting into a daydream.

"Neither do I," he spoke, her pleasant scent flooding him as he held her.

"With that awful bar down there, I might get drunk again…" she remarked, laughing softly as she remembered all the wasted money she'd spent the first night of her binge.

Vincent didn't say anything, but instead he traced a claw finger gently up her back. Tifa shuddered and leaned up to kiss him. Her lips brushed his so tenderly, Tifa wanted to cry. 

As the kiss ended, Vincent spoke into her ear, "Let us leave this place… come with me… we could go anywhere."

His words melted her, melted her heart, her body, and her soul. She rested against his body again, feeling herself become sleepy.

"Yes, I want to go with you…" she replied dreamily, smiling with her eyes closed.

"Anywhere… as long as you're with me," he whispered, feeling himself become sleepy as well.

"Somewhere where it snows…" Tifa insisted, her voice so soft and quiet Vincent could barely hear her. She nuzzled his neck and then laid her weary head down to sleep.

Vincent drifted off into slumber as she spoke to him, giving her a sleepy smile.

"Somewhere where it snows... yes..." he whispered.

END


End file.
